


Snippets From Another Time

by KaijinKyn



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Blood and Injury, Grinding, Hate Sex, Implied Relationship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Injuries, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-19 00:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaijinKyn/pseuds/KaijinKyn
Summary: A collection of drabbles, mostly situated in various different AUs, ranging from romantic to tragic to comedic.Newest update: Games (Goro/Akira) TWIN AU“Just admit it, Amamiya. You can’t stand the thought of anyone but you being in your brother’s life, so you chase them all away and act tough in the name of ‘protection’. It’s quite pathetic, don’t you agree?” The silence that pervades Leblanc’s attic following Goro’s cool words is stifling, Akira trapped between the wall behind him and the detective’s smug face. Goro’s eyebrows were raised as if expecting an answer to his statement - expecting Akira to deny it, deny him. Expecting, assuming, investigating. It was what hedid;was the only thing Goro was useful for. Too smart for his own good.





	1. Blood (Kosei AU)

“Have you ever entertained the idea of painting with blood, Kitagawa?”

Yusuke was not foreign to the experience of having Goro ask him rather strange questions as he worked. He had grown used to the brunet’s presence, not only in his school life - whenever Goro was actually able to attend, more often than not held up by his detective work - but in his dorm room as well, perched on one of the various stacks of boxes Yusuke kept. Usually they resided inside of his cupboard, but he took them out whenever Goro visited - he only had the one stool, after all, and his futon stayed folded whenever he wasn’t using it, so boxes it was.

As used to him as Yusuke was, however, he could still be caught off-guard - Goro really held nothing back when it was just the two of them, things spilling from the detective’s mouth that he would never dare to say in public. Perhaps it was his own way of showing he trusted Yusuke implicitly or something similarly confusing, but nevertheless his question this time was enough to pull Yusuke out of his intense concentration, raising his head from his newest piece to give Goro a scrutinizing look that the other returned with his practised, easy smile.

“Blood…? From where would I obtain such a material? It seems impractical to even try.” As familiar as he was with Goro’s strange, sudden presence in his life, Yusuke was also growing to recognise the slight  _ differences _ to Goro’s expressions; the way a slightly higher tilt to his lips or the crease of his eyebrows could reflect completely different emotions which the brunet was feeling. 

It wasn’t just Goro, no - Yusuke had always been more adept than most at recognising such nuances in other’s expressions due to his art, and in fact the detective had until recently been far harder for Yusuke to get a proper read on. Observing him for various personal pieces had helped in that regard, but mostly it was the time they had spent together that made Yusuke understand his (would it be too much or too little to call him a ‘friend’?) companion better. Goro wore his smiles but underneath every one was something different, and rarely were they ever genuine.

But the smile he wore now was… Different to most, certainly rarer. Yusuke knew it well, of course - there wasn’t an expression Goro had that Yusuke wasn’t by now familiar with. He set his paintbrush down with a sigh at the sight, knowing ahead of time that no matter what he did, he wouldn’t be allowed to focus until Goro had whatever it was he wanted. Not that it truly mattered; he hadn’t been satisfied with how the painting was going for a while now, and it wasn’t as if he necessarily…  _ Disliked _ what Goro planned. He’d just like a little more warning - and maybe a bit more of an incentive on his part.

“There’s lots of places to get blood from, Kitagawa.” Yusuke wasn’t sure he really appreciated the tone to Goro’s voice; smug and somewhat condescending, as if the artist hadn’t realised such an obvious fact. He knew full well how erratic and spacy he could be sometimes, his dedication to his craft occasionally getting in the way of his ability to communicate with others properly - but Yusuke wasn’t a fool. He knew, perhaps too well, what Goro had to hide under those prim black gloves he rarely if ever removed; what he was saying without truly saying it. It was honestly a little worrying, Yusuke narrowing his eyes as Goro stood from his box stack.

“I am aware I can be neglectful for the sake of my art, Akechi, but I would never purposefully harm myself-”

_ “Yusuke,” _ Goro cut him off smoothly, the artist unsure if he felt more annoyed or intrigued at the mocking, honeyed tone to Goro’s voice as he dropped himself into Yusuke’s lap - not that he hadn’t expected things to escalate this way. Winding his arms around the other’s waist more on instinct than anything so as to keep him steady, he felt Goro’s gloved fingers dig into his shoulders in return - and then they were kissing, warm lips pressing needily against Yusuke’s own, open-mouthed and hungry, stealing his breath away.

The detective was far too skilled at this; Yusuke’s brain always taking on a persistent fog whenever Goro kissed him in such a way. He’d had practise from  _ somewhere, _ that was certain - though he didn’t care to know where from when  _ he  _ was the one holding the brunet in  _ his  _ arms - the sensation of Goro’s tongue stroking his own encouragingly sparking heat in Yusuke’s stomach that made him rock his hips upward without meaning to, rewarded in the way Goro rolled his own down in return.

It felt  _ good _ \- or at least, it did for about five seconds before Goro dug his teeth into Yusuke’s bottom lip, making him flinch back and wince more out of surprise than pain. His tongue immediately darted out to check the extent of the damage and only when he tasted something wet and metallic did he realise what the point of all this had been, Goro carrying on talking as if he’d never interrupted himself, his voice only slightly hoarse. “I would never ask you to do such a thing, you know that. I can hurt you more than enough by myself, after all.”

“Hmph. I implore that you don’t.” Yusuke muttered in return, mindful of his injured lip as he spoke and sucking at the fresh wound with only a brief flicker of pain on his face. Goro gave him a confused look for his response as if he couldn’t possible perceive the meaning of Yusuke’s words, forcing him expand on his answer with a sigh and causing fresh pain to bloom every time his lip creased. “The point of this conversation was because you want to have me explore new materials to create with, yes? Your actions would only render me incapable of such a task - and I think it would be rather impossible for me to effectively use my own wounds anyway.”

“Ah, I see. And here I was beginning to worry you had lost your masochistic streak.” The expression on Goro’s face as he spoke was one of definite amusement, Yusuke returning the detective’s gaze with no small amount of annoyance on his part - at least until Goro cradled his cheek and kissed him again, unable to stay irritated (or quiet; he couldn’t help the moan that slipped) when the other’s tongue dug into his still-bleeding injury. Goro laughed at him because of course he did, but it didn’t matter - Yusuke could play his games, pulling himself away to instead press kisses down the length of Goro’s neck and leaving spots of blood as he went, decorating pale skin with bright red. The detective’s surprised gasp was a reward, Yusuke ignoring the pain his victorious smirk gave him as he admired his own handiwork briefly.

“Hm… Better. Perhaps there  _ is _ something to this, after all - so long as you’re my canvas.” He’d obviously caught Goro off guard with that, the brunet’s cheeks briefly going a rather cute shade of pink as surprise flickered in his eyes before schooling it all under another mask, the pout he gave Yusuke almost painful to look at with how fake it was. No doubt he saved such an expression for his fans - something Yusuke himself was decidedly not.

“That was supposed to be my line, Kitagawa.” With an unimpressed huff Yusuke pushed Goro off his lap - not  _ hard, _ he wasn’t that cruel, but - hard enough to get his message across, the detective recovering without stumbling and standing straight to rub away the marks left on his neck, Yusuke pointedly dismissing him as he began to return his attention back to his painting.

“If you are only going to tease me while I am trying to paint then you can get out. I refuse to entertain you.” With that, Yusuke turned his body away from the brunet, fully intent on going back to losing himself in his canvas - but of course Goro wasn’t done, draping himself against Yusuke’s back with his arms looped around the artist’s neck, warm lips pressed to the shell of his ear. The detective’s low voice sent involuntary shivers down Yusuke’s back, almost making him drop his brush for a second time in his surprise.

“How about I go and buy you lunch to make up for it, hm? Would you consider that an acceptable apology?”

“…I suppose so. Though I would prefer a new set of paints…” Yusuke heard Goro tsk sharply before his head was forcibly angled towards the other, gloved fingers warm against Yusuke’s chin as their eyes met, cool grey on piercing red.

Yusuke had never liked the disappointment Goro looked at him with sometimes - he wasn’t a  _ child, _ who needed to be coddled and scolded for neglecting to eat. He knew, realistically, that Goro was only worried for him just as the rest of their (Yusuke’s) friends were, but his pride refused to let it be so. It didn’t help that he knew Goro himself was just as bad, which only twisted the knife in Yusuke’s mind. Who was he to tell Yusuke how he should act when the detective couldn’t even manage to look after himself properly?

“I’m buying you lunch, and you’re going to eat it. I’ll feed you myself if I have to, Kitagawa, don’t test me.” Of course, it didn’t matter in the end. Goro won, as he always did, a victorious smile dancing on the detective’s lips as Yusuke’s gaze drifted downward, somewhere to the side - deference. Submissive. How Goro liked him to be. The sort of behaviour Yusuke thought had remained in that shack when he left it behind. 

It was for his own health, he told himself. He had no right to complain.

“Good boy.” The kiss Goro gave him afterwards was much gentler compared to before, Yusuke’s supposed ‘reward’ for doing as he was told. Such soft lips against his own; a facsimile of a real relationship. It didn’t matter what he tried to make himself believe, Yusuke couldn’t help the way his irritation bubbled - he was not a  _ dog _ to be trained into subservience. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Perfect smile, perfect mask. Yusuke forced his face to remain impassive when Goro had the audacity to ruffle his hair, only moving when the detective did; grabbing the retreating hand out of the air, yanking up the glove’s cuff, sinking his teeth into whatever flesh he’d exposed and relishing the way his split lip stung. He felt more than heard Goro’s reaction, the brunet yanking his hand away from Yusuke’s mouth with a sharp hiss, human’s natural instinct to hold injuries close and away from whatever had caused harm activated. Briefly, Yusuke wondered how much Goro would appreciate knowing his blood tasted as tainted as the detective believed it to be - but he was nicer than that.

“Now we match.” Blood for blood; it was only fair. Yusuke didn’t miss the rather twisted grin on Goro’s face as the artist turned back to his work, Goro’s perfect mask split clean in half in his surprise. It was such a brief expression - he could  _ hear _ the usual smile was back in place when Goro bid him goodbye moments later, the door closing just as soft as it usually would. No tell-tale thud from the hallway indicating Goro had perhaps hit or kicked the opposite wall, either. Perhaps he’d  _ liked  _ Yusuke’s brief moment of rebellion?

Maybe the whole ‘painting in blood’ thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Yusuke wouldn’t mind - not if it was Goro’s.


	2. Games (Twin AU)

“Just admit it, Amamiya. You can’t stand the thought of anyone but you being in your brother’s life, so you chase them all away and act tough in the name of ‘protection’. It’s quite pathetic, don’t you agree?” The silence that pervades Leblanc’s attic following Goro’s cool words is stifling, Akira trapped between the wall behind him and the detective’s smug face. Goro’s eyebrows were raised as if expecting an answer to his statement - expecting Akira to deny it, deny him. Expecting, assuming, investigating. It was what he  _ did; _ was the only thing Goro was useful for. Too smart for his own good.

Downstairs they can both hear Ren puttering about, helping out Sojiro in an unusual rush hour. Leblanc’s coffee and curry was good, everyone knew that, but the chance of _every_ _one_ of Sojiro’s regulars turning up all on the same day was about as rare the planets aligning, so of course it had to happen right now. 

What this meant is that Akira had been left alone with  _ him _ \- Goro, who he hated; Goro, who’s pleasant smile hid rage that Akira knew festered in his heart. He knew because they were the same yet different; where Akira let it out in his words and fists Goro kept it shut tight behind his lips, never to be released. Instead it smoldered in his deep, deep eyes, the detective’s urge to scream it all out locked somewhere deep down where no person could reach. Akira hated Goro for a lot of things and his boundless self-control was one entry on a very long list - no human should have to bottle it all up like that. Akira fought his way through the world with hate and anger, but that was better than letting it all stew relentlessly in his mind.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I love my brother, Akechi - I’ve been keeping him safe.” Akira’s argument is not as solid as he would have liked it to be, because truth be told Goro is almost right in his assessment. For much of his life, Akira had been jealous of the attention Ren got from their parents. Where his brother was pampered and fussed over (and abused and yelled at and hurt, and hurt, and  _ hurt),  _ Akira was neglected, allowed to roam free and do as he liked, the various scars and marks littering his body a testament to what he had done with that freedom.

But while they were kept apart at home, the twins saw enough of each other at school for Akira to grow into his overprotective role, threatening anyone who dared get close to Ren - be it a bully or simply another student - with his fists. He had kept his brother safe in exchange for making Ren completely friendless, and behind his need to protect the other was the bitter taste of spite. 

He had done it to help and to hurt, to keep Ren to himself; ‘safe’. But now things were different - he couldn’t fight off the friends Ren had already made before Akira followed him to Shibuya, and quite frankly he didn’t really want to. He knew he had been wrong, knew his brother deserved company aside from his own, knew that the friends Ren had made were good people who cared just as much as Akira himself did.

All of them but one.

“Well, I’m talking about your attitude towards me. You think you’re doing Ren a favour by keeping me from befriending him properly, yes?” Goro’s words were punctuated by footsteps, the detective calmly approaching Akira who had nowhere to go except  _ back, _ his shoulders hitting the wall behind him as he was cornered like prey before the other. Goro was taller than him; stronger (though he loathed to admit it); smarter. He could lash out, but then that would get him in trouble with Ren, not to mention the police and/or media for decking a well-known detective in the face. All he could do was clench his fists as Goro towered over him, using his one-inch advantage effectively.

“I  _ am _ doing him a favour, asshole. You’re only here because y-mmph!” Akira’s angry words were cut off by Goro’s gloved hand covering his mouth, the taste of leather making him recoil slightly and bump his head against the wall as the detective leaned forward, close, too close. Red-brown eyes that looked closer to inky black in his own shadow peered into Akira’s cold, angry grey, daring Goro to try anything - and try he did. The hand on Akira’s mouth slid away, cradled his jaw, tilted his head up- and then Goro’s lips were on his own, warm and soft.

Fire burst in Akira’s throat, his breath stolen, hooking his fingers in Goro’s stupid striped tie as their lips parted and a tongue was shoved down his throat and- Didn’t do anything, because half of him wanted to shove the other away and raise his voice and get violent, while the other half wanted to pull Goro closer and grind hard against him like a cat in heat (how shamefully hypocritical of him; to condemn the detective but desire him so desperately). What he wanted didn’t really matter in the end anyway as Goro made his decision for him, free hand going to Akira’s hip to pin him in place before it slid down his thigh, a shameful noise escaping Akira’s mouth when Goro lifted his leg by the knee and slotted them together almost too easily, the detective laughing softly against his lips at the reaction.

“Oh? Did you like that, Amamiya?” Goro’s voice was teasingly quiet as he pressed quick kisses against Akira’s jaw, the shorter trying his best not to whimper with every roll against his hips. It wasn’t like he’d never been in situations like this before - he’d had too many to count - but the fact that it was  _ Goro _ making him feel this way (the fact that he liked it, wanted it, wanted  _ him) _ had him breathless, almost uneasy. Every insult and vulgarity Akira wanted to fling at the other dissolved into nothingness as he was ground against, Goro’s mouth now at his neck and gloved fingers tangling in black hair turning him to putty. God, when had he gotten this  _ easy?  _ “You might want to be quiet. I doubt there’s much privacy granted when you live in an attic.”

“Sh-Shut the fuck up, Akechi-” It was a pitiful attempt, but an attempt nonetheless, Goro having the audacity to outright smirk at him in smug pity before going right back to Akira’s lips, a particularly  _ loud _ noise leaving his mouth at a more harder roll of the detective’s hips. He was coiling up inside already, pressure building steadily as his hushed moans grew, head thrown back against the wall as he felt himself begin to overheat beneath his clothes, Goro licking a path up his throat and making him tremble.

It had been too long since anyone had touched him, hard to pick up people when you’d transferred schools to  _ Tokyo _ of all places. Akira wasn’t stupid enough to try his luck in Shinjuku, Kabukichō dangerous even for someone like him. He had been pent up for too long now, jittery and energetic with nowhere except the Metaverse to let it all out, and even that only worked for a short while before he was right back where he started. Goro doing this was- an excuse, a reason to release stress. That was all, surely. He wouldn’t let it be anything else.

It was as Goro was beginning to undo the buttons on Akira’s shirt (rather skillfully, he might add, considering the gloves) that his brother’s voice floated up the stairs, both of them freezing like deer in headlights at the sound.

“Is everything okay up there? Morgana thought he heard something. You two aren’t fighting again, are you?” Footsteps- It was  _ not _ a long walk up those stairs. Goro tore himself away from Akira with enough speed to make him weak in the knees, having grown comfortable with the detective holding him against the wall, recovering as Goro fixed his tie and shot Akira a frankly quite frightening glare - ‘ _ don’t say anything.’ _ Like he  _ would. _

Ren’s concerned expression as he emerged from the stairwell melted away into something rather unreadable when he caught sight of the two of them; dangerous on Ren’s face. Akira felt himself break out into a cold sweat, very aware of his unruffled state (the throbbing spots on his neck that Goro had caused, collar buttons hastily done up to cover them), willing himself to meet Ren’s eyes through his twin’s glasses. Nothing was out of place here - and thank God Goro was a decent actor.

“My apologies, Ren. Your brother and I were simply talking - or, I was trying to engage in a conversation with him. You know how he is.” Oh, that  _ asshole _ \- talking about him like he wasn’t standing  _ right there, _ a complete mess in front of his brother because of him; like he hadn’t just been making out with Akira against a goddamn wall-

“I do.” Ren’s easy agreement didn’t help, not moving his eyes from Akira as if he could feel the awkwardness (and guilt; Akira knew how Ren felt about Goro and yet-) rolling off his twin in waves. The moment passed, however, Ren’s gaze sliding away somewhere distant, far away from both the two of them as if thinking too hard about something. Ren’s body moved with his eyes, turning to head back downstairs, still not looking at either of them as he spoke, his voice level as always. “Boss wants your help, by the way. More customers showed up.” And then he was gone.

Releasing a breath Akira didn’t realise he was holding, he took a moment to relax against the wall behind him before straightening up, shooting Goro a reproachful glare that the other smoothly ignored and instead focused on adjusting the cuff of his gloves, only deeming Akira worthy of his time when he was appropriately satisfied. Bastard.

“Well, that was fun.”

“Glad you fuckin’ think so.” He was too stressed for this. Deciding to be petulant, Akira made a point to disregard the detective and went searching for some shoes to put on instead, aware Sojiro would probably crack a plate over his head for daring to treat the cafe like a living space. The attic had grown stifling and oppressive, everything he and Goro weren’t saying filling the space between them awkwardly. The past few minutes felt like some kind of fever dream, Akira trying not to think about the taste of coffee on Goro’s lips as he shoved his feet into his trainers; trying desperately to ignore the detective’s gaze like he couldn’t  _ feel _ Goro picking him apart with his eyes. 

Attempting to brush past him to get to the stairs didn’t work because of course it wouldn’t, Goro catching his arm with a hand and making Akira swing violently in his direction, nerves too frayed for close contact with the detective again so soon. He smelt like  _ perfume, _ this wasn’t  _ fair- _

“Sorry, did I startle you? I just wanted to say you still haven’t given me your phone number yet. We’re in the group chat together, but…” Innocent words, punctuated with the most perfect, painful, fake smile Akira had ever seen. But that was just Goro, wasn’t it? He was a fraud, a trickster, the person Akira hated most out of anyone. He didn’t have to play along.

“Work for it, Akechi.” Akira snapped, jerking his arm out of Goro’s grip with a hard glare and turning to go. This was a familiar playing board with an unfamiliar opponent - but Akira wouldn’t lose. If Goro wanted him then he’d play by Akira’s rules. (He told himself that, aware already of how the odds were stacked against him.) “If you want my number then impress me next time - and take me somewhere Ren  _ won’t _ be able to hear.” He only let himself rub at where Goro had grabbed him when he was halfway down the stairs, out of the detective’s sight, his arm aching somewhat. Goro was stronger than him; smarter. He’d be wise not to forget that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on twitter @KaijinKyn!!


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